Protect Me From What I Want
by Sintari
Summary: Whoever fights monters, take care lest he become a monster... Sasuke will do anything to kill his brother. Uchihacest. ItaSasu. Be sure to read warnings! Part Two of the Invictus Arc.
1. Weapon

_**Title: Protect Me from What I Want**_

_**Author: Sintari**_

_Rating & Warnings (all chapters): R; Uchihacest, dark, angst, yaoi, lemon, slight BDSM, blood_

_Pairings: ItaSasu, references to past OroSasu, any others t.b.a_

_Spoilers: Up to Issue #238 – the rest is the speculation of my warped imagination. I've also given Orochimaru the use of his arms. _

_Disclaimer: Is Itachi in every chapter and episode? No? Then I don't own Naruto._

_Author's Notes: Dedicated to Saro (check out her wonderful fics). _

_Please see my profile for links to the naughtier, NC-17 version of each chapter. _

* * *

**Chapter 1 - Weapon**

_He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster. _

_And if you gaze for long into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you. _

_- Friedrich Nietzsche_

Six small torches provided the only illumination in the room. Even though Sasuke knew in his head that they were merely in the Sound Village's temple, six smoky points of flame wreathed the seal drawn on the floor and created the illusion of a vast space beyond the circles of firelight. For a brief moment he was transported back to genin missions. He remembered the howling of wolves and huddling with Naruto and Sakura and Kakashi-sensei around a campfire where the circle of the light was the only thing keeping the monsters at bay. Now, because of his decision, Sasuke knew that no matter how many lit torches surrounded him, he would always be in the heart of darkness. From his position, spread-eagle on the floor, eyes as black as sin watched the tendrils of smoke as they escaped up toward the ornamented ceiling. The smell of incense in the room was already intoxicating but an especially strong whiff of cinnamon caused him to involuntarily twitch against his bonds. The shackles at his wrists and ankles held tight, as he had known they would, allowing him only millimeters of leeway. It was less painful than other times he had been similarly shackled, though. Orochimaru had thoughtfully provided padding on the inside of the metal cuffs. A tendril of smoke drew his attention. Maybe it was the mind-numbing drugs that he had allowed Orochimaru to administer, but Sasuke fancied the smoke had taken the shape of the pointed nose and curved tail of a fox before spiraling toward the ceiling.

A door scraped open somewhere near his feet and Sasuke felt a fluttering in his chest as his heart quickened. With an unfamiliar pang of nervousness, he lifted his head a fraction to catch a glimpse of the new arrival.

"Sasuke-kun…" The sinuous voice of his Master floated to him from beyond the flames. Sasuke thought he heard a new element, a breathlessness that he had never noticed in Orochimaru's voice before. Pallid, sandaled feet, which normally never made a sound even on the driest leaves, scuffed the wood floor slightly. A dark figure materialized on the edge of the seal, one of the torches illuminating his partially open mouth and flushed face.

"Sasuke-kun…" Orochimaru said again. And this time, the hitch in his breath was audible. Sasuke was suddenly painfully aware of his nakedness, of the ridged tatami beneath his bare back. He shivered and goosebumps blossomed all over his pale body.

Sasuke felt his own breath catch in his throat when Orochimaru stepped more fully into the firelight. A few more steps had his Master looking straight down at him, and then kneeling over him in a sick parody of a father leaning to give his son a good night kiss. There was nothing fatherly, though, in his appraising gaze and Sasuke's dulled eyes widened when Orochimaru's snake-like tongue flicked out and swiped over his top lip. Something appeared in the corner of Sasuke's eyes and then a long, sharp fingernail was scraping down his cheek. He tried to sink further into the tatami mat, shying away from the too-familiar touch. The Uchiha knew that his Master would not hurt him – why would he hurt his vessel? His most precious person? But he still flinched minutely when one of Orochimaru's cold hands palmed his exposed abdomen and then began a slow creep downward.

His Master's odd, slitheringlaughter effected Sasuke like a sandpaper rubbing up his spine, but to his relief Orochimaru removed the icy palm from his stomach and used it to fish a black vial from the pocket of his robe. Blissfully untouched for the moment, Sasuke exhaled in a rush.

"Now I just have to complete the seal, Sasuke-kun," Orochimaru crooned. He was still kneeling so that Sasuke had to turn his head a bit to look at the youthful face and spiky blonde hair of his Master's newest shell. And, from his position on the ground, regarding the deceptively youthful body in the dim torchlight, the resemblance to Naruto tugged at him like a hook in his bellybutton. Sasuke swallowed and closed his eyes, even going so far as to turn his head away from the sight, as if that could erase the painful memory of the confused look in his best friend's eyes when…

_Cold!!_

Black eyes that had been half-lidded flew open to find Orochimaru hovering over him, a calligraphy brush in his hand. He could feel but not see where the Sannin had drawn something over his heart with black ink.

"Hold still, Sasuke-kun," came the gleeful voice. This time the paintbrush drew a long straight line from his sternum, across his shoulder and then, Sasuke imagined, connected to a corresponding line on the floor. The next line grazed one nipple and Sasuke felt both hardening in response to the stimulation. Squeezing his eyes shut Sasuke tried to will himself to calmness, to stop his treacherous pulse from racing. Smiling to himself, Orochimaru then circled the uncolored nipple with a long fingernail, causing Sasuke to swallow and stiffen beneath him. Sharp blue eyes regarded him for a long moment, as if drinking him in, but then, after a small disappointed shake of his head, Orochimaru's long-fingered hands continued their work. Soon black lines decorated Sasuke's individual ribs, spiraled around his navel and came together at triangular points over his hip bones. To paint his arms, Orochimaru swung one leg over Sasuke's body, straddling him. The loose fabric of his Master's robe brushed Sasuke with every short thick line that he drew and Sasuke soon found himself becoming embarrassingly aroused.

It was a testament to the gravity of the situation that Orochimaru did not take more notice of his development. For most of Sasuke's life, the bit that dangled between his legs was just another distraction to be ignored. As an avenger he had no need – and no right – to appease his body's baser needs. The thought had never even crossed his mind. Except sometimes deep in the night…

…_crawling into Itachi's bed and laying his head on the flat plane of his brother's narrow chest. Sleeping with the sound of heart's blood pounding in his ears like the rhythmic thrusts of a lover… _

But after that day, the only dreams Sasuke ever had involved thrusting a kunai into that hollow between Itachi's throat and sternum and slashing downward. Some nights, he'd never been more excited in his life.

Sasuke's face reddened. The mere memory of his dreams had his breath coming in shallow gasps. Biting his lip, he looked away, attempting to avoid Orochimaru's gaze. He wasn't expecting the cool touch when the tip of the paintbrush glided over the underside of a particularly delicate spot. Gasping, he felt something inside him loosen and it was all he could to refrain from pressing himself against Orochimaru's retreating hand. Even then, his hips rolled a time or two before he could still them.

"Sasuke-kun…" his Master breathed. Yes, it was true that the Uchiha avenger had no interest in satisfying the needs of the flesh, but that had never stopped Orochimaru's seemingly endless fascination with making Sasuke squirm.

He knew that Kabuto and the others called him Orochimaru's "pet" and that they gossiped about how Orochimaru's room adjoined his. They suspected foul things. Vile things. And they were absolutely correct. Orochimaru took his pleasure with him, it was true. But Sasuke took something from those long, long nights too. Uchiha Sasuke had learned the unexpected lesson that there were other weapons aside from jutsus.

His body was a weapon.

A weapon he would never hesitate to use once his power was joined with Orochimaru's and he was finally free to pursue his ultimate goal - Uchiha Itachi.

Uchiha Itachi, whom he had last met when his brother had tried to kill him in the hallway of a rundown inn. Uchiha Itachi, who had defended against his _chidori_ without blinking one dead scarlet eye. Uchiha Itachi, who had had the nerve to say "I have absolutely no interest in you right now." Uchiha Itachi, whose arousal, though, had been apparent as he held Sasuke in a one-handed grip against that hallway wall.

Steeling himself, Sasuke stared hard at the ceiling as Orochimaru teasingly caressed the inside of his thighs with the tip of the paintbrush. He even managed to control his flinch when the last inky lines curved along the delicate arches of his feet.

"Its time to begin, Sasuke-kun," his master's voice was farther away now, back at the edge of the seal without Sasuke noticing his retreat. His lack of awareness may have been due to the drugs, or it might have been the fact that he had long ago perfected the ability to retreat into his own head while Orochimaru's hands were upon him.

"Close your eyes and hold very still…" came his Master's voice from somewhere beyond the smoke. "It will all be over in an instant."

Then, his Master began to chant. At first the sound was even and melodic; composed of lilting words that Sasuke did not understand and did not want to. There was no need. In a matter of moments, Sasuke would be joined with Orochimaru. Then vengeance would be his.

And it would be sweet.

Try as he might to focus on the invisible point where the torch smoke disappeared beyond the glow of firelight, Sasuke felt his eyelids growing heavy. The fires all around him were burning with abandon now, making him feel warm, disjointed, and sleepy. It did not help that the Sound-founder's chanting was insidious, infiltrating his mind before he knew it, like a squadron of extremely stealthy ANBU. Finally succumbing, Sasuke saw his dark eyelashes meet. When he opened them next it would all be over.

Then all sound abruptly ceased and every painted line on Sasuke's body began to burn like a thousand brands simultaneously pressed into his skin. He was sure all of Orochimaru's intricate artwork would be blazing a bright, searing red if only he could lift his eyelids to see.

His head thrown back, Sasuke strained against the bonds until he felt every corded muscle in his neck, arms and legs. The ghostly after effects of the chanting swirled in his ears, so loud that he did not hear the tell-tale scrape of the Sound Temple's door opening a second time.

The ringing in his ears combined with the drugs he had taken prohibited him from reading the newcomer's chakra, but what did it matter, really? The pain had died down to a dull ache, like a days old fever, and he could feel the imminent transformation, a distant rumble of thunder on the edge of his senses. They had been over this thousands of times. He would open his body, his vessel, for his Master and then…

And then calloused hands encircled his throat.

At once, the burning in his body ceased, the chanting in his head subsided. A wave of disappointment washed through him, as if he had just awakened from an impossibly realistic dream. Momentarily forgetting his bonds, he tried to reach for his assailant but only succeeded in wrenching his shoulder. Finally opening his eyes, he was greeted with a retreating swish of black silk.

"He's sealed," a gruff but unmistakably feminine voice declared. A new sensation, a throbbing in his neck, accompanied her words.

It was only with considerable effort that Sasuke was able to turn his head and follow the voice. What he saw had him straining against the bonds again, this time his body involuntarily trying to curl into a fetal position. It wasn't the drugs that made red clouds in a sea of black swim before his eyes. Suddenly, Sasuke couldn't have been more sober. He swallowed as two sets of eyes regarded him. The one nearest to him was a flame-haired woman. Further back, outside the dwindling barrier of smoke, stood what could only be termed a monster.

"Hoshigaki Kisame." Sasuke had a split second to wonder at the evenness of his voice as he looked up at the two Akatsuki from a position of utter helplessness, bound, naked and ostensibly, seconds from dying. To his surprise, the woman looked away, almost as if embarrassed. The shark's dull eyes regarded him for another long moment then he mumbled something to the woman and they disappeared from Sasuke's view.

Sasuke inhaled and exhaled raggedly once, before a wave of anger overcame him. Why hadn't they tried to kill him? And if Kisame was here, was Itachi? Alone again, all the panic that he had suppressed resurfaced and he looked around the room wildly, only to find that he was completely alone.

* * *

Shimoda was a fishing village where time was measured in seasons rather than years, and generations were defined by storms rather than decades. Formerly a port town, Shimoda had fallen into a state of perpetual disrepair when the Wave Country cut off contact with their closest trading partner. Signs of the decline showed everywhere, from the dilapidated buildings framing Shimoda's main street, to the threadbare linens in their rooms at the town's only inn. 

Uchiha Itachi was above such petty concerns.

Idly running one fingertip around the rim of his sake cup, Itachi watched another family - the sum of their meager possessions packed on their backs – trudge down the main road out of town. They were cutting it close. The Sound delegation was set to arrive any moment now, and, once they arrived, the town would be sealed off until negotiations between the Akatsuki and Orochimaru and his Sound Nins were completed.

Beside him, Kisame refilled his own cup yet again. "Sunetra said the negotiations could take up to a month. What's your opinion, Itachi-san?"

The more senior Akatsuki member did not know, so he did not answer. He knew Kisame would come up with another way to coax him into conversation soon enough. Aside from the proprietor, they were the only two in the tea shop and Kisame was ever one to talk.

"I'm not even sure this Porcelain Mask exists, are you?" Kisame continued, after making sure that the red-faced proprietor was out of earshot. "It all sounds like an opium dream. I mean, if there's a way to resurrect someone perfectly, it seems like every rich guy's dead girlfriend would be up and running around." Kisame seemed to ponder this for a minute. "Though I guess Honori isn't your average rich bastard. But still."

"Only Orochimaru knows the proper jutsus to activate the Porcelain Mask," Itachi said, voice his usual monotone. "It is said that he created the artifact."

Kisame reflected into his sake cup. "I guess that makes sense. I hear that he is obsessed with immortality. What with all this body switching."

For the first time in the conversation Itachi's eye cut sideways and he regarded Kisame for a fraction of a second. "You hear correctly."

Sensing that he finally had Itachi's attention, Kisame leaned in a little. "You can't like that, eh? Orochimaru acquiring the Sharingan?"

Itachi was silent.

"Craziest thing I've ever seen," Kisame continued. "Your brother staked down to the floor. All that black paint on all that pretty white skin. Did I tell you he was naked? I'm inclined to believe that that was Orochimaru's own personal touch in the ritual. I don't really think…"

"Kisame." It was a simple word, something Itachi said all the time, and still in that familiar monotone, but the slight change in inflection was enough to leave him gaping at his partner.

"You talk too much."

* * *

Despite that he was entering into these negotiations under extreme duress, Orochimaru descended upon the town like a king attending his own coronation. Akatsuki had given him three days after their attack on his village. Three days to produce the Porcelain Mask. Three days to try all of his considerable number of jutsus in order to reverse Sunetra's seal on Sasuke. Their shadowy leader, and Honori, their patron, had been so certain of her considerable skills that they had left Sasuke in Orochimaru's hands, a useless vessel until the seal superceding the Sound leader's own seal was removed. And apparently their faith had not been misplaced, because Orochimaru was indeed here at their demand. 

Sasuke walked alongside him, one of Orochimaru's long-fingered hands resting possessively on the nape of his neck.

Itachi and Kisame watched their arrival from the shadows of a tea shop. Behind them, the old proprietor twisted a dishtowel between his hands over and over again, probably dreading the impending seal that would have them all trapped in Shimoda until negotiations were completed. The higher ups had made it perfectly clear that nothing would be allowed to go wrong in obtaining and activating the Porcelain Mask.

A coffin holding the body of Honori's most favored mistress rested in the walk-in freezer of one of the town's larger restaurants. It amused Itachi to no end that they were going to all this trouble for, of all things, love.

When Orochimaru's delegation reached a predetermined point, the four present Akatsuki members and Honori, their client, stepped out to greet them. As agreed upon, Sunetra, and Orochimaru's lackey, Kabuto, would use an old treaty jutsu and jointly seal the town, leaving themselves on the outside with instructions to break the seal when signaled. The rest of them would apparently be stuck in Shimoda until Honori's mistress proved she was once again fully functioning. What that entailed, Itachi neither needed nor wanted to know.

Itachi could feel hard eyes boring into him as soon as he left the shadow of the tea house, but he paid Sasuke no mind. Among the many mundane rules of the negotiations, was one that might interest Sasuke greatly. No killing under penalty of death. This applied to all of them, no matter if you were one of the items on the table – like Sasuke – or if you were merely a hired hand doing his job. Still, Itachi hadn't cultivated ten years worth of hatred in his younger brother for nothing. He expected the odd assassination attempt here and there. In fact, he looked forward to it. Meanwhile, he would stand here in the hot sun beside Kisame and ignore the black eyes glaring at him from about ten feet in front of him and thirty degrees to the left.

He doesn't think about how he could have gotten out of this tedious detail but chose not to. Because Uchiha Itachi does not doubt or second guess himself. Even when he probably should.

Out of the corner of his eye, ten feet in front of him and thirty degrees to the left, there is movement. Honori is talking to Orochimaru. They have turned to the side and the Sound-leader's hand is still on Sasuke's neck. His little brother - because that's the way he still thinks of him and always will - is standing in profile to him now. Out of the corner of eyes that see so much, Itachi watches the pallid hand of Orochimaru's newest body skitter down Sasuke's back then easily slip beneath the hem of the boy's black shirt. Long fingers trace small circles on bare skin.

A long moment passes before, beneath his cloak, Itachi's own fingers slowly uncurl.

Sasuke has never stopped staring; he's half looking over his shoulder now. Identical sets of eyes, Uchiha black, meet for the first time in over two thousand days.

Does Sasuke finally have enough hatred? Itachi supposes he will find out soon enough.

Their staring contest is broken when they begin to walk toward the inn, Orochimaru exerting a firm pressure on Sasuke's neck. Itachi surmises that – the way the Sound leader is leading him around - his brother might as well be wearing a collar. Has Sasuke gone through all of this humiliation just to gain the power to kill him? Behind his cloak, the older Uchiha allows a small smile.

_A/N: Feedback is alwaysread,appreciated,re-read and then used to fuel the muses! __Remember, links to the smutty stuff can be found in my profile._


	2. Playing With Fire

_**Title: Protect Me from What I Want**_

_**Author: Sintari**_

_Rating & Warnings (all chapters): R; Uchihacest, dark, angst, yaoi, lemon, slight BDSM, blood_

_Pairings: ItaSasu, references to past OroSasu, any others t.b.a_

_Spoilers: Up to Issue #238 – the rest is the speculation of my warped imagination. I've also given Orochimaru the use of his arms. _

_Disclaimer: Is Itachi in every chapter and episode? No? Then I don't own Naruto._

* * *

**Chapter 2 – Playing With Fire**

Itachi wished he had thought to check the town for a more suitable whore before Sunetra and Kabuto had completed the seal that left them all trapped in Shimoda. Kenji was the right age – young - but he was much too tall. And with dark blonde hair, sun browned skin and hazel eyes, his coloring was the total opposite of the pale, dark haired, dark eyed boys Itachi usually preferred. Still - Itachi glanced lazily down at the tousled head bobbing in his lap – this one's technique was exemplary. Probably the result of being the only male whore in Shimoda.

Stroking Kenji's earlobe between his thumb and forefinger, Itachi thought back to the negotiations earlier that morning. Orochimaru drove a hard bargain, but so did Honori. No matter that all the cards seemed to be on their side of the table, Orochimaru was still refusing to resurrect the dead woman. Itachi and Kisame both agreed that he had some sort of ace in the hole.

Right before the day's negations had concluded, when they had all already stood up to leave, Honori had asked Orochimaru, "What exactly is it that you plan to do with Uchiha Sasuke?"

Itachi had ignored the veiled glances thrown his way at that question. No expression showed on face, but he was surprised that Honori had asked. Of course, any tidbit of information that Orochimaru might reveal at this crucial juncture could potentially provide them the opening they needed.

Orochimaru had just smirked at that. His trademark pallor seemed at odds on the spiky blond haired, powerfully built form he now possessed and Itachi realized with a start that Sasuke's own body would not have to change much at all to accommodate the Sound Leader's essence.

"I'll have him," Orochimaru had answered, though only after allowing a long moment to pass. His eyes had cut to Itachi before he continued. "I will have Sasuke-kun in every way possible. Mind…" His elongated tongue stretched out and sinuously lapped across his top lip. "Body…" the word dripped with venom. "And soul." With that, the amused sparkle in Orochimaru's dark eyes disappeared like the sun dipping below the horizon.

At that memory, Itachi realized that his hand was fisted in hair – hair of the wrong color – hard enough to pull a few strands out by the roots and that Kenji had stopped all motion. Flexing both hands, Itachi took a deep breath and then relaxed back against the headboard.

* * *

From a ramen stand across the street, Sasuke watched his brother leave the brothel with the same whore for the third evening in a row. He was in the process of formulating a plan in his mind when one of Orochimaru's lackeys approached, placing a hand on his shoulder near the curse seal. This was a little game they played. The other Sound ninjas pretended to defer to Sasuke and Sasuke pretended that he didn't fantasize about killing them in their sleep.

"He wants you, Sasuke-sama."

With a disgruntled snort, Sasuke turned on his heel and followed in his brother's tracks to the inn where all the negotiators had taken rooms. Needless to say, it was the only inn in town. This fact had made for some awkward confrontations in the halls but so far the "no fighting, no killing" rule had been strictly obeyed. Still Sasuke avoided the common room and the possibility of running into an Akatsuki by concentrating some chakra in his legs and leaping to Orochimaru's second floor balcony.

Orochimaru did not appear at all perturbed when Sasuke entered from an unexpected direction. There were no suites at the inn, but his Master had somehow managed to decorate his small room in imperial fashion. Sasuke imagined the lackeys scurrying all over the town procuring the lacquered table and the various calligraphy wall hangings. He looked around suspiciously, not using any pretense to hide the fact that he was looking for unusual bulges behind the curtains. Satisfied, he sat down on a cushion across the table from Orochimaru.

"Dine with me tonight, Sasuke-kun?" His Master hadn't waited. He was already worrying at some bits of boiled fish with his chopsticks.

"No, thank you. I've eaten," he replied blandly.

Orochimaru's chopsticks stopped in mid-twirl and a slow smile formed on his lips. Reaching one hand across the table to where Sasuke's forearms rested, he ran two fingers slowly down the inside of Sasuke's left wrist. "Come to bed," he said, enough like a question that they could both pretend it was a request.

The first time Orochimaru had laid hands on him, Sasuke had frozen. He had not drawn on his formidable ninjutsu skill, nor had he thought to try and run away. Even if he had not been paralyzed with fear, he would not have dared. He had laid perfectly still, hands by his sides and stared at the juncture where the wall of his room met the ceiling. And as it turned out, his chilly stillness had been enough to cool the Sound leader's ardor.

During the next few weeks, Orochimaru could not find the time to teach him the special jutsu that might possibly counter the Mangekyou Sharingan.

And in those long nights, Sasuke had frozen up, still as a statue again when Orochimaru came to him.

As the weeks passed, Orochimaru did not train him, and Sasuke did not respond to the touch of cold hands. And one morning, while counting the kunais in his pouch, Sasuke found that he was unable to conjure up the image of his mother's face.

The next night that Orochimaru darkened the doorway of his room Sasuke, from his position on this side facing away from the door, had said quietly "If you teach me the Mangekyou Sharingan counters I'll fuck you and make you believe it."

That night long-fingered hands trailed down his bare flanks and unbidden tears squeezed from the corners of Sasuke's eyes.

Orochimaru finally took him, and glass shattered somewhere behind Sasuke's ribs.

Later, lying alone, sore and shivering beneath the blankets, Sasuke's befuddled mind could only grasp onto one thought. Now he possessed enough hatred.

* * *

Hair still damp from a romp in the springs, Sasuke waited to return to the common room until he was sure that most people in the village would be asleep. When they were children, his brother had rarely slept. Before that day it had been a comforting feeling knowing that his niisan was awake and ready to keep the monsters at bay. He mentally scoffed at that younger, trusting Sasuke. That child was dead. Strip this mortal shell of its flesh and bone and all you would find now was the soul of an avenger.

An avenger who was currently being trailed by Itachi's pretty whore. The boy had been confused when Sasuke paid the price for a whole day and night, but hadn't yet touched him. Out of sheer bewilderment, he had slipped his hand between Sasuke's thighs as they sat in the hot spring. But Sasuke only responded to the questioning touch by gingerly removing the offending limb.

"When are we…?" Kenji had asked timidly.

Sasuke had been leaning back against the tub's edge, eyes closed to the steam.

The prostitute had thought he could see Sasuke's eyes cut toward him, even under the closed lids. "Tonight," he had said, soft enough that Kenji had to lean toward him through the steam. "After everyone is asleep."

Now everyone was asleep. Sasuke had brought Kenji to his private room and told him to rest. So far this had been the easiest money he had ever made. And he had been taught to fear easy money. Sasuke made him nervous, pacing around the room while the prostitute dozed fitfully. When Sasuke woke him with a nudge of his foot, Kenji noted that the sky was dyed the purple black of early dawn.

And Sasuke looked different. The drab over shirt and white shorts had been replaced with a cut-up mesh shirt, and skintight black fatigues slung low on his hips. A black bracelet, more like a long leather cord, criss-crossed its way up one slender arm, taking the place of the bandages that Sasuke usually wore there. He could also have sworn that Sasuke's eyes appeared larger and blacker than before. Was it eyeliner?

"Now?" Kenji asked and Sasuke merely nodded then stepped away from the futon, just beyond the lamplight.

"How… how do you want it?" he ventured. Sasuke's strange silence was beginning to make him nervous. Itachi was a man of few words as well, but at least he always made sure Kenji knew what he wanted. One way or another.

"Come on," Sasuke jerked his head toward the door and padded out into the hall. For the first time, Kenji noticed that his patron was barefoot. Stretching, he adjusted his own scant clothing and followed.

Kenji's eyes widened a bit when Sasuke stopped before a door that he knew well. Itachi's door. But Sasuke did not knock or try the knob. He merely stood in front of it for a long instant and then continued down the hall to the inn's common room. Predictably, for this late hour, the room was entirely empty. The fire had burned down to a mere glow, casting the already dreary room in shadow, and Sasuke threw another log on, jostling it pensively with a poker until the flames began to lick at the wood.

Several worn chairs and couches were grouped around the fireplace, their faded beauty just another testament to the town's former grandeur. Kenji, unsure, hovered beside one of the couches, wondering for the thousandth time that day why Sasuke had bought him. If rumors were to be trusted, the boy was his own age, and it was obvious that he was marred with none of the imperfections or awkwardness of adolescence. Kenji's practiced eye had noted the way men and women appraised the dark-haired boy out of the corner of their eyes or over their sake cups. And now, with half of his face wreathed in firelight and half in shadow, he was absolutely breathtaking. He did not realize he was staring until one glittering eye – the one in shadow – met his own.

"These men pay good money to fuck you, don't they?" The voice was the same, bland, bored, even though this was the first question Sasuke had asked him all day.

Kenji found that he could only nod. Sasuke's eyes scanned up and down his body and suddenly the young prostitute found that he was clutching the back of the couch to support his watery knees.

"Do you ever get to fuck them?"

Brows furrowing, Kenji shook his head.

Sasuke finally turned away from the fire, and began to saunter toward him, their eyes locked. This was the way the rabbit must feel beneath the paralyzing gaze of the snake. Except Kenji was pretty sure the cornered rabbit would be so turned on.

Sasuke had closed the distance between them now. Their faces were inches apart, though their bodies did not touch. Kenji felt his eyes drawn to the full pink lips, dazedly watching them form the carefully articulated words, "Do you want to fuck me?"

_A/N: I apologize that this chapter is so short. With the lemon cut out, it's less than half its original length. I really recommend that you follow the links in my profile to read the lemon. It truly is integral the plot. (Not to mention, Itachi shows up…) Reviews are always sincerely appreciated. _


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